


so be mine (and don't waste your time)

by beepbedeep



Category: The Wilds (TV 2020)
Genre: F/F, failing a little bit tbh!, fatin is a good friend let's face it, island life hard :((, leah Needs The Help, ohhoHH we're back!!, teamwork!!!, trying to keep away the breakdown????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:22:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28666920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beepbedeep/pseuds/beepbedeep
Summary: Leah wants to be upset about it, wants to tell Fatin that she doesn’t need a babysitter, except that maybe she does. She’sgrateful, even as she wants to hide like an ostrich, head in the sand while the lions keep running.
Relationships: Fatin Jadmani/Leah Rilke
Comments: 8
Kudos: 108





	so be mine (and don't waste your time)

The sun is warm, the waves are crashing softly against the sand, it’s a beautiful day (in a terrible situation) and Leah’s weighing the mechanics and potential repercussions of pushing Fatin down the hill they’re perched on. Or rather, _Leah_ is perched – sitting on top easiest-to-get-to-spot-that-is-also-high and minding her own business, while _Fatin_ squirms around, peeking over Leah’s shoulder at the journal every two minutes and making it impossible to focus. (Fatin always makes it hard to focus, the pitch of her voice and the sun’s habit of refusing to shine on her face in any way that isn’t unfairly flattering always make Leah’s head go a little fuzzy) 

Item #372 on Leah’s list of “fun/irritating facts about her fellow captives (her friends) is apparently that Fatin has a penchant for editorializing, and isn’t afraid to share. Leah’s trying to do what the doctor ordered, get her wildly spinning thoughts under control, and Nora’s “write what you see” method might be working, except that Fatin keeps leaning over to see what she’s doing and _commenting on it_. And Leah might uncharitable indulge in a fantasy of Fatin gently getting nudged off the hilltop, except that her head still is clearing, somehow the world is still springing a little more into focus with Fatin’s every breath. 

Recently, Fatin has _constantly_ been around, occasionally making herself known by flopping next to Leah on the sand and loudly declaring how uncomfortable she is, but more often Leah will just see something move in the corner of her eye and look up to find Fatin tucked into the landscape nearby, or pulling whatever her latest task is into Leah’s eyeline. (Or pulling off her shirt before diving into the waterfall, which Leah can’t seem to stop noticing.) As much as Leah wants to run away, from herself or this hellscape, Fatin is _not_ letting her, and Leah wants to be upset about it, wants to tell Fatin that she doesn’t need a babysitter, except that maybe she does. She’s _grateful_. 

Leah’s instincts haven’t been the best lately, her impulse to shut everything out probably isn’t a great choice either, and on some fundamental level Fatin seems to understands this fact. Leah’s gotten used to a set of watchful eyes checking to make sure she’s eating enough, that she doesn’t accidentally get her foot stuck in a weird hole, and a warm pair of arms encircling her stomach at night when she can’t stop shaking. Fatin is nothing like what Leah expected, and still exactly who she’s always been. Leah wishes she could wrap herself in just a little bit of the other girl’s bluster and confidence, her inability to not say what she’s thinking – it’s kind of magnificent, kind of _beautiful_. 

Even now, with Fatin’s questions popping up constantly, _is that what’s really going on??? are you sure?? I am totally not picking up on that_ , at least Leah doesn’t feel alone. After another minute of attempted journaling, she sets the book down and flops back, almost immediately joined by Fatin who stretches her body like a cat (making Leah’s stomach flip???) and recoils in the face of the sun, squinting in the bright light. Before Leah can do anything, Fatin has her hand up, shielding both their eyes, and gently pokes Leah with her knee, _wouldn’t you just kill for some sunglasses out here?_

(Later, Leah will marvel at Fatin’s ability to make seemingly insurmountable problems go away just like that, easy as a hand blocking the sun. That’s what Fatin does, makes Leah’s life less painful.) 

Later, she will also understand what Fatin was doing on the hill in the first place, why she ran through questions without taking a breath. Leah hasn’t had an easy go of it recently, has been tortured and miserable and hopeless, but Fatin’s felt like that – at least in part – for _years_. She’s been hemmed in by people who love her, shoved into a set of tiny boxes, a costume that doesn’t fit right, a script that she didn’t even write for most of her life and has been chaffing, chomping at the bit, for most of that time. 

And yet, Fatin is the most clearly defined person Leah has ever met, with a personality so strong it could cut diamonds, and opinions that spill from her like the long black hairs Leah finds all over their couch and clogging the shower drain. She’s a _master_ at spinning the story a different way, and diving beneath the surface, defining herself when everyone is trying to shove her behind a gilded curtain. And Fatin’s method of sharing her tips with Leah might not have been particularly smooth, but all she’s been trying to do, since the very beginning, is throw Leah the only tools she knows how to use to survive – to ask questions about what _really happened_ and make sure you recognize the people in the stories.

But that’s later. For now, Leah relaxes next to her friend ( _friend???_ ) and lets their bodies roll closer, lets them crash together, lets Fatin wash over skin and smile against her lips.


End file.
